


Bruised

by alphabetgirl



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries, Protective Callum "Halfway" Highway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:14:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26910466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphabetgirl/pseuds/alphabetgirl
Summary: "Who did this to you?" Callum breathed, barely audibly. He was breaking out in a cold sweat and a lump had lodged itself in his throat, making him feel like he was going to be sick. But he couldn't be. He had to stay calm, for Ben."My dad," Ben replied, pushing himself up into a sitting position despite Callum's attempts at getting the injured man to stay lying flat.
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Comments: 14
Kudos: 53





	Bruised

It was late by the time Callum arrived back at the Mitchell residence, night having already fallen nearly an hour ago. Big grey clouds had swept across the sky, blocking out the light from a full moon, and a heavy drizzle had started to descend, accompanied by a strong wind that slipped it's icy fingers into even the warmest outdoor coat. Callum sighed as he turned into the back yard of the Mitchell property, weariness clinging to every fibre of his being. All he wanted to do was get a warm cup of tea and then snuggle up with Ben in front of the TV for the rest of the night. He hadn't seen his boyfriend since 8 o clock in the morning, and the younger man had been half asleep, just awake enough to respond sleepily to early morning cuddles and grumble incoherently when Callum had kissed his cheek and told him that he had to leave for work. Hopefully once he had Ben in his arms, he would be able to shake off the unexplained, uneasy feeling that had been bothering him for the last hour or two. 

As he approached the back door, it took his exhausted mind a minute or two to register that the kitchen light was off, not shining in the window like it usually was. In fact, unlike the other houses on the street, not a single light was on by the look of it. Even though Callum knew that it probably just meant that everyone had gone out, it still caused a flicker of worry in his gut. Licking his lips, he reached out and tried the handle. It was open, which did nothing to ease his mind. 

Upon setting foot in the kitchen, something crunched under his boot. Glancing down at the floor in confusion, he could make out white shards of what looked like ceramics gleaming in the dark. A smashed dinner plate was Callum's guess, but how had it come to end up in that state? It was as if someone had deliberately hurled it at the door. 

A tiny noise caught his attention, coming from the corner of the kitchen at the other side of the table. A small whimper, like the noise an injured animal would make, so quiet that Callum's ears barely picked it up.

"Ben?" 

No answer.

The feeling of worry had grown into an almost overwhelming feeling of fear, squeezing his stomach relentlessly with stony fingers as he reached for the light switch and flicked it on. 

"Ben! What happened?!" Callum cried, rushing to where Ben was curled up on the floor, trying to push himself into a sitting position and squinting in the sudden bright light. All he got was a soft groan in response. 

"Don't move," Callum instructed softly, pushing him back down and stroking his fingers through his hair. "I'm here. It's alright,". 

He raked his eyes over his boyfriend's prone figure, taking in the numerous injuries that littered his body. 

A large bruise was already forming on his right cheek, the skin was torn and starting to scab at the centre, presumably from where it had been nicked by a ring while a trail of blood ran from the corner of his mouth to his chin. There were more bruises on his neck. From fingers, Callum realised with a jolt of horror. Someone had grabbed his boyfriend by the throat, and with considerable pressure by the looks of it. The hem of his shirt had ridden up, revealing more bruises blossoming on his abdomen, skin a mottled pattern of blue and purple. It was the blood coming from his mouth that worried Callum the most though. 

"Ben, I need to ask you something," Callum said, gently trailing the back of his hand down the other man's undamaged cheek "And it's really important that you tell me the truth," 

"O.K," Ben mouthed. 

Callum could only presume that his neck was too swollen for him to speak properly. 

"Have you been coughing up blood?" 

Ben shook his head. "I bit my tongue," he wheezed and then started coughing and spluttering as the effort of talking put extra strain on his already injured throat.

"Shhh," Callum soothed. "Don't try to talk. Just mouth to me or sign,". 

The younger man nodded gratefully.

"Do you have any more injuries?" Callum asked, pulling the other man's shirt up a bit further to examine the bruises on his stomach "Other than what I can see?" 

"Twisted ankle," Ben mouthed. 

Callum turned his attention to the younger man's socked foot. His ankle did look a bit swollen under the material and when he touched it, Ben yanked his leg away with a hiss.

"Sorry," Callum said, leaning down to press a kiss to his lover's forehead."Can you move your toes?"

Ben nodded and demonstrated, before swivelling his whole foot, wincing as he did so. 

"Probably just a sprain then," Callum said softly, as Ben shifted slightly, moving to rest his head on his boyfriend's thigh. Looking at his battered state, Callum felt tears spring to his eyes.

Callum understood that there were some people on the square who thought that being a Mitchell meant that Ben had been born bad, that he was cold and heartless. But Callum knew that this wasn't the truth. Ben was good, deep down. He wasn't a bad person, he was just a victim of all the damage that had been done to him over the years. He had so much light in him just trying to come out. Callum had been able to see past his hard man persona, strip back the walls the younger man had built up to defend himself and see who he truly was underneath it all. He was kind, sweet, sensitive deep down and the older man would never be able to get his head around hos anyone had been able to bring themselves to hurt him. 

"Who did this to you?" He breathed, barely audibly. He was breaking out in a cold sweat and a lump had lodged itself in his throat, making him feel like he was going to be sick. But he couldn't be. He had to stay calm, for Ben. 

"My dad," Ben replied, pushing himself up into a sitting position despite Callum's attempts at getting the injured man to stay lying flat. 

"Your dad?" Callum asked. His free hand, the one that wasn't currently cupping Ben's cheek curled into a fist, seemingly of it's own accord. 

"He found out..." Ben's voice cut off with a choking sound, one hand coming up to touch his sensitive neck. 

"Mouth the words," Callum reminded him gently. 

"He found out that I slagged him off to social services, about Raymond," 

Callum took a deep breath, held it for a second, before letting it out again in a slow exhale. He was actually shaking with rage and despite it being quite cool in the kitchen he felt hot. He supposed a literary author would describe his blood as boiling. He didn't think he had ever been this angry before, to the point where it threatened to overwhelm him. Where it took every ounce of self control not to storm off, find Phil Mitchell and snap him in half, as slowly and painfully as possible. 

"Callum?" Ben whispered, looking at him anxiously. 

"It's O.K," Callum said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. "You're going to be O.K," Phil Mitchell would have to wait. Ben was his priority right now, and he set about exerting all of his energy into taking care of him. 

"We need an ambulance," 

"No," Ben moaned. 

"Yes," Callum replied firmly, sweeping his boyfriend's hair back off his forehead with one hand and reaching into his pocket for his mobile with the other. "It'll be alright, I'll be with you the entire time," 

His phone wasn't there. He checked his other pocket, and then the front pocket of his hoodie and came up with nothing. He must have left it on his desk at work.

Idiot. He swore at himself. 

"I've left my phone at work, have you got yours?"

"Yeah," Ben picked it up from where it was on the floor beside him. "I think it's broke, though,".

Callum took the device, taking in the numerous cracks webbing across the dark screen, the screen that refused to light up no matter how hard he pressed the power button. 

"Landline," he murmured, standing up. "I'll be right back,"

Before he could move towards the cradle that held the receiver, the front door creaked open loudly, causing both men to stiffen.

"He's back," Ben croaked. "Cal, you need to go, you need to run,". 

But Callum had already sprung to action. As much as he wanted to punch Phil Mitchell's face in, he couldn't engage him in a fight, and protect his boyfriend at the same time.

"Leave me," Ben protested as Callum went to lift him.

"Shut up," Callum said in a no nonsense tone, picking his boyfriend up in one fluid move.

"I'll just slow you down,"

"I'm not listening,"

Callum hurried out of the kitchen door, which he had thankfully left wide open, with no clear direction in mind, just knowing that he had to put as much distance between his boyfriend's father and the two of them as possible. It was raining heavier now, and Ben shivered in his arms, dressed only in jeans and a thin jumper. Callum held him tighter, tucking his face into the crook of his shoulder in an attempt to protect him from the elements as best as he could. The smaller man, despite looking quite solid, was surprisingly light so he was able to cover ground quite quickly. 

They ended up in the park. Callum couldn't remember much about the journey there, he had been too busy trying to get away from Phil. He had kept expecting to hear a shout, or for the man to grab him from behind, but so far that hadn't happened yet. He had been so busy running away that he hadn't considered where to go after this. The rain was easing at least, and he sank down onto one of the damp benches to consider his next move, cradling the smaller man in his lap. Adrenalin pounded in his veins, every nerve ending on fire and every muscle tensed, still ready to spring into action at the slightest bit of notice. Ben's head was heavy on his shoulder, warm and slightly unsteady breaths hitting his neck. Callum wasn't even sure if he was still conscious or not. 

"Ben?" he shrugged his shoulders lightly to get his attention. 

"Mmhmm?," 

The taller man breathed a sigh of relief.

"Don't go to sleep," 

Ben chuckled softly.

"When I've got a hunky boyfriend carrying me around?" He replied, voice still very croaky. "No chance. I want to remember this," 

Callum bit his lip to keep from smiling because that was Ben all over. 

"Don't make me laugh," he ordered. "Nothing about this is funny,".

Although it was reassuring. Knowing Ben for as long as he had, he had learnt that when Ben stopped making snarky/mischievous comments, then it was time to really worry. 

"We need to find a phone," Callum murmured, pretty much thinking out loud. 

The sound of raucous laughter reached his ears, coming from the Queen Vic on the other side of the road. The pub. Someone there would be able to phone an ambulance for him. Callum knew that he could go about it two different ways. He could carry Ben into the pub, where he knew that the younger man would hate everyone seeing him in a weakened state and feel like a spectacle, or leave him on the bench while he went over alone and asked for an ambulance to be called and then go straight back. The latter wasn't an option. If he left Ben alone, Phil could come along and find him while Callum was gone. Which meant that Ben would just have to put up with being stared at. 

Before he could actually voice his plan of action, the quiet sound of footsteps reached his ears. He stared down the path to see someone ambling towards them and instinctively tightened his grip on his lover, fearful that Phil had discovered them. Thankfully, as the silhouette of the person came into view, he saw that it was too tall and too slender to be Phil.

"Callum, what's going on?" The figure called as it drew close. It was Jack. 

"Jack, help me," Callum implored. "It's Ben," 

The Branning took a couple of steps forward, casting his eyes over the pair and taking in the smaller of the two's injuries. 

"Who did that to him?" He asked quietly.

"His dad,".

Jack sighed and shut his eyes, shaking his head sadly.

"You can't help him, Callum. You can't help any of them. They are too far gone," 

"What?" Callum asked, unable to believe what he was hearing. 

"I've told you this before. The best thing you can do is to just walk away and stay away from that family. You are only going to get hurt. The Mitchells are savage," he indicated Ben. "Even with each other,". 

And with that, Jack Branning turned on his heel and strode away.

"Jack! Jack, you can't do this. You have to help him!," Callum yelled after the retreating figure.

The older man didn't even so much as glance back. 

"Jack!"

Ben's hands fisted at his hoodie gently. 

"It's ok," he mouthed, with a reassuring smile. "It's ok,". 

Because of course Ben would think that it was O.K. He had been conditioned to believe that he wasn't entitled to good treatment, and that he deserved any abuse that was thrown his way.

"Jack. I need an ambulance!" 

"BRANNING! YOU ABSOLUTE BASTARD!!!"

**Author's Note:**

> Jack Branning has got it in for Ben so much that I genuinely do wonder if he came across Ben in some kind of trouble and needing help, would he assist or would he just turn around and walk away.


End file.
